THERE'S ONLY ROOM FOR ONE SCROOGE AROUND HERE
The Best Gift I Ever Received, Iron-On T-shirt Dreams, Some Stuff I Enjoyed in 2024, My Analog Rebellion
Hiya Friends,
On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your holiday spirit? Are you Buddy the Elf or Charlie Brown? Come December, I’m usually the dork dancing around my living room to the Lou Rawl’s record, “Merry Christmas Ho! Ho! Ho!,” and/or the last living person filling out hundreds of holiday cards BY HAND. ⬅️ More about this later. This year though, I’ve had a bad case of the bah humbugs because, as you've probably noticed, things aren’t so great in the world right now. Rather than put up the tree, I planned to toss some string lights on a house plant and call it a day. Well, my other half, Jared—who really couldn’t care less about the holidays—must’ve decided that there was only room for one Scrooge in this household.
A few days ago, while I was out, Jared unearthed the fake pink tree from the storage room and hauled it upstairs. He then proceeded to figure out how the pieces fit together, which, trust me, requires a PHD. You know that scene in The Grinch when his heart grows three sizes and we viewers get all misty-eyed? That’s the exact reaction I had when I got home and saw the tree in the window. It was a true Christmas miracle. I’m getting all verklempt again just thinking about it.
THE BEST GIFT I’VE EVER RECEIVED
In other holiday news, during
’s “Pitching Hour” workshop last week, she gave us a prompt to write about the best gift we’d ever received. Honestly, as I get older, I appreciate sweet gestures (like Jared setting up the tree) more than bric-a-brac. Lord knows I don’t need any more stuff. But if I’m forced to pick a material object that touched my heart, it’s the neon sign pictured below. ⬇️
Back in the day, I worked at Universal Pictures as a movie marketing shill. For six years, I shared a dark, windowless office with a few different folks and they became good friends. One Christmas, these office mates pooled their dollars, and gifted me the custom neon Hilary sign pictured above. Well, I nearly burst into tears on the spot. Not only was this one of the most inspired gifts I’d ever received, it made me wonder how these coworkers knew that this was the gift I’d always wanted. I’ll explain. When I was a kid, the name Hilary wasn’t common. And in the 70s, we kids lived for crap that had our names on it. I must’ve clocked hundreds of hours wandering trinket shops in search of a vanity license plate for my bike or a monogrammed sign for my bedroom door to no avail.
Fortunately, the iron-on decal craze exploded right around this time. Shops and kiosks had popped up all over town, ready to instantly customize a t-shirt with your name in felt letters on the back, and the decal of your choice on the front. Set up like tattoo parlors, these shops displayed all the available heat-transfer designs on the wall and created the t-shirts while customers waited. If you’ve never experienced the satisfaction of putting on a custom t-shirt that’s as warm as a freshly-cooked pancake and smells vaguely of chemicals and electric curlers, you haven’t lived.
When I was about six or seven, a bespoke shirt with a Snoopy decal on the front and “Hilary” in iron-on letters on the back was the #1 item on my wish list. This was also the year that my dad reentered the picture after spending five-years on a self-actualization journey in the Caribbean, or as Ma likes to say, “escaping his responsibilities and refusing to pay child support.” Ma must have tipped off Pops about the shirt because he dropped off a present in a box with ribbon. As I lifted the baby blue t-shirt from the gift box and spied the felt iron-on H-I-L, a rush of serotonin flooded my brain. I credited the grubby lucky pennies I’d picked up off the street and errant eyelashes I’d blown off my fingertip to bring me this kind of luck. And, of course, my incredible, generous father for figuring out exactly what I wanted. But then I noticed an extra “L.” “Hillary” instead of “Hilary,” and the mixture of rage and confusion overwhelmed me. How could my own father not know how to spell my name? *sigh* It took a while to recover from the devastation, but I eventually forgave him. Pops meant well. He had a kind heart and incredible artistic talent, but being a dad wasn’t his strong suit.
Anyhoo, that neon Hilary sign cracked me open that day and made me feel seen in a way I guess I’d always craved. Now, twenty years later, it sits on the bookshelf in the living room and it’s still one of my favorite things.
A FEW THINGS I ENJOYED IN 2024!
THELMA—Streaming on Hulu
June Squibb stars in this film as the title character, Thelma—the victim of scam who embarks on a journey to try to get her money back from the scammers. I finally watched this movie last week and people, I absolutely LOVED it. So many movies and TV shows that feature older adults resort to aging stereotypes and/or mock the characters. This film, on the other hand, felt so true. June Squibb gives a fantastic, funny, and nuanced performance, and brings a ton of realness to this role. The script is sharp, and actors like Parker Posey, Richard Roundtree, and Malcolm McDowell are delightful as the supporting cast. Highly recommend. Favorite movie of the year!
DEADLOCH—Streaming on Prime with Commercials (boo)
While I tend to prefer my murder mysteries dark and serious instead of humorous, every now and again an exception comes along. The first season of Search Party (I think it qualifies as a comedic mystery), was one of those shows. This year, I was all in on Deadloch. Here’s a little summary: In the fictional Tasmanian town of Deadloch, a dead body appears on the beach. The local police chief—a mild mannered and methodical woman who used to be a big-city detective—is forced to team up with an impulsive and seemingly incompetent detective from Darwin to try to solve the crime. As you might expect, hijinks ensue. Packed with tons of quirky and hilarious characters, the laugh-out-loud moments do not get in the way of excellent suspense and drama. Five stars!
CRITTER SPYING
As some of you know, earlier this year, I set up a trail camera in my yard to spy on the critters. I’m not even being hyperbolic when I say that it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Observing local wildlife via the camera has kept me sane and opened my eyes to a fascinating, secret world. In fact, I was so inspired by my newfound hobby, I pitched a story about my fellow critter spying enthusiasts and sold it to BBC.com. So that was exciting. I now have two cameras set up in the yard along with a few water sources and a friend just sent me a little critter bakery where I occasionally leave walnuts for the squirrels. The cuteness is insane. If you’d like to follow my backyard critter adventures, follow my stories at @hilaryhatt on Instagram. The BBC piece is here if you’d like to read it. For folks interested in getting into the critter spy game, hit me up for camera recommendations.
MY ANALOG REBELLION
I’m almost done filling out 180 holiday cards by hand. This has left very little time to read all the newsletters that I enjoy reading. Apologies if I’ve missed your latest Stack. I plan to play catch up later this week. As for the cards, yes, my hand hurts. Yes, ink is smeared all over my palm. Yes, I’m bleary-eyed. But it’s worth it because as I write the name of someone on the card, I take a minute to picture them in my mind. I like to think about how we met and some kooky adventure we shared. There are also a few folks on my list who have passed away and though I miss them, I try to remember the good times we had together.
I know that not everyone has time to fill out hundreds of cards. Most of the holiday cards I receive now have never touched a human hand. They’re printed and stuffed into envelopes by machines. I get it. People have day jobs and lead busy lives. I’m lucky to have a pretty flexible schedule and enough money to pay for stamps. Sure, I’d make my life much easier if I just used a service to mail out my cards, but this is my analog rebellion in an automated world. I’ll never vanquish AI, or self-checkout stands, or driverless taxis. But for now at least, I can still use a pen to write a note to a friend.
AINT NO PARTY LIKE A RACCOON PARTY
Before I sign off, I’ll share this video of a raccoon family ransacking the critter bakery1 in my yard. This family visits often and they are such little mischief makers. I don’t leave food in the bakery at night because raccoons have a lot of friends and I don’t want to be that lady who had to call 911 to rescue her from the army of raccoons staked out on her lawn demanding food. 🤣
“Somehow the word got out in raccoon land, and they all showed up to her house expecting a meal,” Kevin McCarty, a spokesman for the Kitsap County Sheriff’s Office, told NBC 9 news.
Okay. That’s a wrap for today. Hope everyone enjoys some holiday cheer and that sanity prevails in 2025. Thanks for subscribing, taking the time to read my rambles, and contributing to my birdseed fund. You’re all stars and I’m so grateful to have connected with you here. If you enjoyed this post, hit the heart button, share it, or leave a comment. I always love hearing from you. xo H2
You are the most unScroogelike person I’ve ever met!
Happy Christmas, Hilary! One of the highlights of traveling to France when I was little was finding my name everywhere including on a book series. I felt seen: https://tinyurl.com/5dyazm7y